


Prompt: "public"

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bars can be boring<br/>Or not. <br/>For tumblr's ylviswagger</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prompt: "public"

Sitting alone at a table wasn't much fun, especially if you were waiting for someone who never showed up.   
It was midnight already and you had been there for three hours. You gave up and ordered a bottle of spiced wine. The second it got there, the bell in the door rang, its noise sounding above the guy playing the piano on stage.   
You looked behind you, with the tiniest bit of hope, to see these guys you knew with a few friends, looking kinda -very- drunk and stumbling upon a table next to yours. God, they were hateful.   
This guy who was with them, though, didn't look like he had drank much. In fact, he looked upset. He just sat there, his back to yours when he sat, watching them, and ordered a bottle of whiskey.   
You drank your wine, and saw him on the reflection on the glass. His hair was messy and tucked out of the collar of his leather jacket. He turned around a couple times and you saw he was wearing a V-necked shirt that perfectly showed off his collarbones and sweaty neck.   
His hands were gripping the neck of the whiskey bottle tightly as he brought it up to his lips and drank, covered in black leather gloves except for his bony, attractive fingers. He tapped on the neck of the bottle.   
it was around 2 AM when you both had finished your drinks, and all the other guys were sort of asleep. You were ready to leave, and got up, but felt fingertips grazing along your arm.   
Upon seeing you turn around, he pulled you to the seat next to him, almost /on/ him, and threw his arm around your waist and his other gripping your upper arm.   
You were surprised but got carried along in the end. Exploring his hair with both your hands, you tasted the whiskey on his lips and the dirt on his neck as you made your way down to his exposed collarbones. He rested his head on yours and played with your hair, softly tugging at it.   
When he tought he could take no more he pulled you up and took you to a secluded corner next to the stage, behind a curtain, and put your back to the wall.   
He seemed to move in beat to the music, fast and kind of dark, kissing your ear and down your neck to your shoulders, biting very softly, as if to leave you needy. And he did, and he could tell by the way you tugged at his hair and the collar of his jacket, which you eventually tore off, to reveal his shirt was sleeveless, and ran both your hands along his defined and muscly arms which were holding you to the wall by the waist.   
The way he tucked both his hands into the waist of your skirt made you supress a loud moan against his neck. He looked at you, looked into your eyes with his, deep blue, and, as if to shut you up, pressed his lips to yours once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse the fact that this was HELLA CRAP


End file.
